Tear You Apart
by goldsworthys
Summary: What's become of Clare Edwards after she returns to Degrassi after a summer of highs and lows in California? Nobody wants to know more than the boy who's ruined her life: Eli Goldsworthy. { a long overdue SEQUEL TO CELESTICA }


**a/n** : i wrote this maybe three years ago and withheld it from you guys, and i apologize for that lol. maybe i won't ever continue this, but i felt as though you guys deserved at least a liiiiittle taste of what happened after clare moved back to canada at the end of celestica. if people actually read and review this then i'll consider trying to write it again, though my eclare ship has sailed and i'm obviously a die hard bughead fan now , i mean , what eclare shipper isn't at this point?

this isn't like your usual celestica - this time you'll get some eli point of view, which is personally my favorite part. i know some people were upset with the way celestica ended, so hopefully this will either make you like it more or hate it just as much lol! hope you're all doing wonderfully and have amazing lives now. i'm doin Pretty good i guess. anyway , enough of my dumb chatter. here's that sequel you guys always wanted

 **rating** : rated M because swearing is cool, it's celestica, so drugs will be involved, and who knows? maybe there'll be some smut later on

 **disclaimer** : i don't own degrassi ! who does now ?

 **summary** : what's become of clare edwards after she returns to degrassi after a summer of highs and lows in california? nobody wants to know more than the boy who's ruined her life: eli goldsworthy.

* * *

"This is so fucking stupid, B." I grumbled, sticking my hands deep into my jean pockets. Becky's grinning her ass off at me from the chair across the room. She thinks she's so saintly, making me go to therapy. If she does this, she'll get to fix the greatest fuckup of all time, Eli Goldsworthy, and no amount of charity work could ever add up to that.

"Everything is going to be fine. It's only a thirty minute session and I'll be waiting right here until you're done. Then we can do anything you want." Becky promised, and I raise an eyebrow, ready to piss her off.

"Anything I want?" I smirked. Surprisingly, Becky's cheeks turned a dark shade of red and a giggle stumbled out of her mouth. Sometimes I like her, honestly. But she's mostly just a distraction.

All of them were distractions.

"Eli Goldsworthy?" A small voice echoes from the doorway and a hand waves me back into the office. "I'm Elizabeth, Dr. Jacobs' assistant. Just wait in here, she'll be back in just a few minutes. If you need anything just call for me."

I don't remember why I'd agreed to go to therapy. I don't know how I let Becky talk me into anything, really, but I think it's the challenge. She's different from every other girl... and I hate it.

I fucking hate it.

She won't do drugs and she won't sleep with me. I can get hookups but never past third base and I can get alcohol but never, ever, a little hit off a bong. In a way, she's a hypocritical piece of Christian shit, but I told her I love her. Wow, if any of them were lies, it was this _I love you._ I thought she wasn't listening, too, but she was. She sprang up, throwing her arms around me and shouting _Eli Goldsworthy! You incredible masterpiece!_ And kissed me until my lips went purple.

No one really ever says it back. But that's probably for the best.

"Sorry about that," a deep, but still very feminine voice said, and a door closed behind her. "My daughter was on the phone, she's stuck at home with a bad cough."

"That's shit." I cocked an eyebrow. Dr. Jacobs laughed, sitting down in the big clichè brown arm chair across from me. "I have a question."

"So do I."

"Is this one of those stupid Christian therapy things where whilst listening you're also trying to convert me? Because if it is I'm out of here."

She placed a paper onto her clipboard, and shook her head. "Yes and no. Traditionally I am a Christian therapist, but if me just being a regular therapist will help you the most, that's what I'll be."

"Are you from Becky's church?"

"Yes. Are you Becky's boyfriend?"

I blinked. Everyone knows I hate this question, and Becky knows it the most. She's witnessed several times me going from general dislike for the question to a manic episode about it. Shaking my head, I looked around the room, admiring the childish artwork hung around the room. "No. I don't date."

She wrote it down.

"But I'm not seeing anyone other than Becky, if that makes sense." I tried to justify myself, and it made me nervous watching her write that down too. "I just don't like labels. No one else I've ever been with had a label."

"But would you consider Becky your girlfriend? Do you guys do things that people with the labels do?"

"I don't want to get her in trouble." I answered. "Her parents don't like me and I should censor myself. You'll probably pass it on to Mary and Joseph." I joked, but Dr. Jacobs didn't find it as funny as I did, only cracking a very small smile at me.

"Anything between us stays private, Eli. I just want to understand where you're coming from. Becky told me you are a very intricate young man. She says you have a lot of secrets," She finally puts her pen down and looks at me. "About past girlfriends. Something about a Clare? Or a Julia?"

Both names stung like a wasp, and I suddenly wished I'd never show up. "Did she tell you all of their names?" I asked, an annoyed tone masking my voice. Dr. Jacobs shook her head.

"She only mentioned Clare and Julia to me. She didn't even tell me what happened with them."

"That's because _she_ doesn't even know what happened." I grumbled, slumping down into my chair. The dark red haired woman eyed me suspiciously. "Nobody is dead." I lied, but then quickly corrected myself. "Julia's dead. But Clare helped me realize that wasn't my fault."

"And where is Clare now?" Dr. Jacobs asked.

"In Canada." I said, dryly. "That's where she lives with her mom. She was only here for the summer. She left like two months ago." She began writing that down, but it looked as if she was waiting for me to continue. "Her dad is my - well, he was my French teacher. I hated him but we ended up working it out." I paused, looking around the room again. I didn't like to look right at her. "Did Becky tell you I do drugs?"

She ignored my question. "Have you talked to Clare since she left?"

I shook my head. "No." I said quietly. "I can't."

"Why can't you?"

"Um. International calling's a bitch?" I lied. "And I'm scared. What if she doesn't pick up? What if she's angry? What if back in Canada she realizes I ruined her life? Besides, she hasn't tried to contact me either. She never even sent me a FaceBook request."

"Girls work differently than boys, as I'm sure you know Eli. If you two had a rocky goodbye, she could have been worried that _you_ would be angry with her. What if both of you are just scared of the others reaction?" Dr. Jacobs suggested.

I'd thought of that, but wasn't sure exactly if it was actually a plausible idea. I'd thought about calling her a hundred times, pulling up her contact in my phone and staring at her stupid icon. Messy curls. Bed head. Raccoon eyes. Thinking about it made my head hurt. But whenever I'd ever get the nerve up to press call I'd back out. I'd hang up before the first ring and then most recently I'd deleted her contact. If I ever really needed it again, one of the Fantastic Four would have it on hand.

"I'm scared that maybe she's monumentally fucked up now because of me." I admitted, picking at my fingernails. "Say she goes back to Canada and doesn't become her old self. She stays all toked out and sleazy and it's because of what I turned her into."

"There's only one way to find out if that's true, Eli."

"But I don't _want_ to find out! I want to stay in some happy little dream world where Clare's normal and has a happy boyfriend and she gets straight A's in French. All the other girls I've fucked up, they stayed here, so I can keep an eye on their post-fuckboy afterlife. Not Clare."

Dr. Jacobs scribbles down what looks like is just one word. "So you're dissatisfied. And you probably will be until you find out how Clare is. There's only one way to -"

"Clare is fine." I spat. "I'm sure Clare is fine."

...

"FUCK, EDWARDS, HOW DID YOU DO THAT?"

I smirked, rubbing my nose at the line I'd just done. "Practice. It's what makes perfect, you know."

"Clare, we have to go." Alli's voice shouted from outside the bathroom door.

"Why? I literally just started having fun."

She grabbed my arm, yanking me from a bathroom full of boys all just trying to get their dicks wet. "You'll definitely have a lot more fun when the cops are here in ten. Thanks for an all right party, Miles."

"Course, Bhandari. If I take care of the cops I'll give Clare a call and you two can come on back. Do you need a driver home?" Miles is filthy rich, in case you didn't know. Who knew sophomores could be such fun?

"No, Jake's outside." Alli said, slightly under her breath. I quickly yanked away.

"Are you kidding? _Jake's_ outside?! Do you want me to get in a shit load of trouble?!" I shouted, quickly filing down Miles' staircase to the front door. "Why in the world did you call Jake?"

"Because I care about you, coke head. It's not like Jake is going to tell Helen." Alli tried to persuade me, following me out the door and towards the big red truck awaiting me. Thanks Alli, you're a real genius.

"Don't mention the coke." I turned to say to her before opening the door to Jake's truck. "Hi."

"Hollingsworth party ending so soon? That's a surprise." Jake laughed, "Don't worry, I won't tell mom you were here."

"Don't call her mom." I said awkwardly, buckling my seatbelt and facing the window. "They probably wouldn't have even gotten busted. I could've stayed."

Alli laughed from the backseat. "There are two hundred people there, Clare, of course they would've gotten caught. I know you went to a lot of parties in California, but -"

"Shut up!" I turned around hastily and hissed at my 'best friend.' You'd think that for someone so close to me she wouldn't try to fuck me over so much.

She's quiet until we drop her off at her house, and she says goodbye so uncomfortably. Then it's me and Jake. Then it's time to get lectured.

It's quiet at first, before he clears his throat and tries to be all fatherly. Shut the fuck up, asshole, you fucking fucked me.

"Are you high, Clare?" He asked calmly, trying to start off with the answer to all questions. "I don't care if you are. And I won't tell Helen. Just tell me if you are or not."

"Yeah, I am." I say without hesitation. There's really no reason to lie to him anymore. "And it's coke, before you bother asking that too."

"Cocaine?! Where the hell do you get your hands on cocaine? Are you even okay for me to take you home?" Jake always does this, tries to be a friend and a parent and some like spirit guide for me.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, I'm fine. But you might as well just take me back to the party. I mean, the cops are probably gone by now anyway."

"There is no fucking way, Clare. You've gone off the rails."

I laughed. Off the rails.

"Jake, that's ridiculous. I'm not off the rails, you've just got a stick shoved so far up your ass, you don't know what the hell is going on in the real world. Not everything is about eco-friendly bullshit and community gardens, you fucking hippie."

He's unaware of this, but I love to piss him off. He gets so uppity so easily, and when he does he raises his voice in this actually really sexy way. I used to like it when we were dating, but never said anything. He starts yelling about how I've changed since California and how Helen should ship me off to rehab or an all girl boarding school. I don't understand the boarding school part, though, seeing as I haven't slept or even come close to hooking up with anyone since California.

This is voluntary, though. Miles has tried to get with me at least six times. It's only so much longer until I'll be able to give in.

In the midst of all Jake's screaming, though, I feel vibrations in my back pocket and I pull out my phone, assuming it's Miles' call telling me to come back to his party.

But then I get nauseous all of a sudden.

It's an 805 number.

And 805 is from California.

And there's only one person from California whose number I've deleted.

...

"Just stay calm, Goldielocks. She'll answer." Bianca tried to soothe me, sitting criss-cross on her bright red bedspread. "Just Clare isn't a bitch, she cares about you."

"But that's the thing, what if she is _just Clare_ now? What if she's not Clare Diana anymore and she never wants to talk to me again?" I panicked, hearing it ring for the third time. "Who am I kidding, of course she's not Clare Diana anymore."

"You're overworking yourself about this. You need to be casual."

It rang a fourth time, then went to voicemail. And not even a personalized one. I couldn't even hear her voice.

"No answer."

"What time is it there?" Bianca asked, and I glanced at the clock on my phone. "It's probably really late in Canada. For fucks sake, it's Canada."

"It's one." I answered, my hands shaking as I held my cell phone in my hands. "You can't tell Becky that I tried to call Clare, okay? She'll freak out."

"I won't. I wouldn't have anyway. Becky's different from all your other conquests." Bianca mentioned, lying herself out on her bed. I hadn't seen her like this in a while. Actually, I hadn't been in her room with her alone in a really long time. "She's unbreakable. I kind of like that about her, actually."

"You _like_ that I can't get her to have fun with us?" I pinned my eyebrows together. "You _like_ that every time we're getting fucked up, she's worried about whether or not we're careful? The bullshit? What do you like about that?"

"We've never had someone careful in the Fantastic Four before."

"She's not in the Fantastic Four." I grumbled.

Bianca snorted. "It's only a matter of time before you initiate her. But she'll probably think you're dragging her into some kind of cult."

"Becky's just -"

My phone started to vibrate, interrupting everything. Both of us get quiet, eyeing the phone. It's Clare. I know it's Clare.

"Answer it!" Bianca shouts, more demanding than excited.

"Okay, okay, give me a second." I took a deep breath, suddenly forgetting the opening monologue I'd prepared before even asking Bianca for the number. "Hey."

"Hi."

...

What the fuck was I even thinking, calling him back? It was probably a butt dial or a drunk dial or something that would drive me nuts once I found out the real reason.

But when I hear his voice, I feel infinitely numb, leaning back on my pillows. _Hey._

Eli cleared his throat, the deep cough I hadn't heard in so long. "How are you?" Maybe it's just the phone, but he sounds so husky. I remembered that I'm on coke, and everything feels heightened again.

"Good." I said softly, knowing I have to be quiet. It's late, Helen and Glenn are asleep and Jake's a fucking asshole. "What about you?"

"Great," he's quick to say, but then: "I mean, good. Just good. Not great. Good. Same as you." I hear a voice in the background say _great, no wait good no wait I'm a fucking idiot!_ and then Eli yelling: "Shut the fuck up." A door closed. "Sorry."

"Who's that?" I managed to ask.

"Bianca. I'm in her closet now, so we can talk."

When he says this, I realize - I DON'T WANT TO TALK. I'm uncertain why I'd even bothered to call back. I wasn't addicted to Eli Goldsworthy anymore, so why was I giving him my time?

"Talk?" I pressed.

"Yeah, I wanted to talk to you about something. Well actually, I just need to make sure that you're like, okay. My friend is making me go to therapy -"

"Is it a girl?" I said quickly.

He paused. I don't even want to know what his face looks like. "Yeah, it's a girl."

"Is she your new me?" I keep forgetting that I need to be quiet, and my voice gets louder as the call goes on. Eli stayed quiet. "Fucking tell me."

"She's not you, but she's something." He said finally. "But that's not the point, I -"

"I deleted your number, you know. I was done with you." Eli was silent, so I went on. "But I'm not okay, since you want to know. I'm really fucked up. I'm always sad. I'm always high. I'm addicted to cigarettes, so there's that, asshole."

I shouldn't have called him an asshole, but I did. And I thought about taking it back right after I'd said it, but I just couldn't.

"Why are you so angry?" He asked, clearly hurt.

"You've never called. Never texted. Never anything. We said goodbye at the airport but... but that didn't mean goodbye forever." I said.

"It kind of did, Clare Diana, we never made any implication to keep talking."

"D-Don't." I swallowed. "Don't call me Clare Diana. You're not allowed to call me that anymore."

"You're not making any sense."

"Of course I'm not making any sense!" I shouted, "I'm high off my ass, Eli Goldsworthy and I don't really want to talk to you! You ruined my fucking life! I'm a mess now!"

"You could've called too, you know!" He yelled back. I must've pushed a button or something. "You're into all that new-wave feminism stuff, are you now for some reason against making the first move? Texting first? You didn't even tell me if you'd landed safely."

"Don't you dare put this on me!"

"Well what the hell do you want from me? An I'm sorry? I am fucking sorry for screwing up your life, but you're not the only one screwed here, Clare!"

I started laughing, it's uncontrollable I noticed after the third heave. It's probably the drugs. Coke, coke, coke. "You're fucking hilarious, Eli Goldsworthy. You've probably already gotten the tattoo. You've already got a new girl to fuck. You're back in your vicious cycle and I'm here trying to recover from your aftermath. You're hilarious! Fucking hilarious!"

I tuned Eli's yelling out with my laughter. On his end, I could hear bits and pieces of him trying to break in with a remark, but I couldn't hear a word he was saying. It was all just too funny.

The last words I heard him say before Jake Martin stormed into my room, screaming about needing a good nights sleep was a:

"Fuck you, Clare Diana. You insensitive bitch."

Jake had hung up the phone for me. He yelled and accused me of many things. We were bound to wake up our parents any moment, but I had one thing on my mind.

Eli Goldsworthy wasn't important to me anymore, and I needed him out of my system.

I was going to sleep with Miles Holingsworth.

...

"Not every goddamn thing in the world is about you!" I kept shouting over her laughter. "I was scared, I still am scared! We fucked each other up, big time, okay?! I'm not the same anymore. I can't fuck for fun. I can't even fuck anyone at all! All you're fucking thinking of is yourself and how you feel. I'm hurting too, you know. I'm a mess without you here and I wish you could've stayed forever. I loved you, goddammit. I loved you so fucking much, and you loved me too. This is bullshit. Fucking bullshit. Fuck you, Clare Diana. You insensitive bitch."

I hung up after that.

At the time, all of that made sense. It felt right to tell her that she wasn't the only one in pain. I wasn't supposed to sympathize with her, I was supposed to be more broken than her. It was stupid and so selfish, but that was me.

And me at the time decided there was only one way out of this.

I needed to fuck Becky Baker.

"Fuck Becky Baker?" Bianca laughed after I'd told her. She reached across her bed and into her dresser drawer, pulling out a flask with the American flag printed on it. "She's probably one of those girls who think if she does it in the ass it still saves her virginity."

"It doesn't matter, I've got to fuck her. That's the only way to get rid of Clare Diana."

"You're right. That is your only way out." Bianca rolled her eyes, taking a long swig. "You did that with every other girl."

"Several times with you, too." I mentioned.

"Then why don't you just fuck me again, now?"

While that was honestly not the worst idea, it wouldn't work. I didn't want Bianca intimately anymore. She was more of that sister figure. And besides... Becky.

"I can't. It doesn't work like that. I'm with Becky." I stopped, having to correct myself: "Not with her with her, just... I couldn't."

"Pussy." Bianca smirked. "Drink up, let's spoon and go to bed without fucking."


End file.
